My December
by FeralEco
Summary: Zorg thinks he has everything in the world going for him... but when a distant memory comes back... can he tell the one he loves what he has done?
1. Remebering

**I don't own T5E... don't kill me...**

**My December**

**Written By Shadow**

**Notes: A fic between my OC and Zorg, please see my homepage for the RPG storylines (yes we have an RPG)**

**Chapter One: Love Forgotten**

The snow fell gently on the cold hard ground and Jean Baptiste Emmanuel Zorg sat on it, staring ahead into the cold, late afternoon. It was nearing dark, but he showed no expression of leaving quite so soon. One leg was propped up, his arm resting on it as the other leg was bent and flat on the ground, his other hand supporting his bodyweight. The snow had fallen coldly onto his wool coat, underneath he was dressed nicer than he had ever been, but like the snow sticking to him, so did the ice sickles that stuck to his heart.

It was pain enough holding back the tears, his body couldn't take it, couldn't tolerate it any longer, but he held his face in it's stone, cold expression, the one everyone had known him by. Alena.... That name whispered through his mind and surged into his veins. He closed his eyes, the tombstone in front of him showed the engraved name of the woman he thought of. She had died young and he had remembered it all, her smile, her laugh... the trickster she was. She wasn't much of a fighter and was actually the complete opposite of him, yet they had bonded faster than anyone he had ever met.

It had started when she was sick, they had been together for 3 years and nothing could separate them, but then she got sick. In the new world of this evolved universe they had thought of every cure for every disease imaginable, except for an exceptional few. Nothing was perfect, not even in the medical world and he slowly watched her deteriorate into nothing more than skin and bones. Her cries sickened him at night; her screams clutched at his heart then ripped it from his chest and after 7 months of nothing but pain and agony, the sounds of her begging at night to be put out of her misery, he had awoken at 2 am, when the city was sleeping.

It had been all those years ago, he was different then, he wasn't so temperamental... and as he remembered what he had done, it made him want to vomit. As he sat, he flashed back again on what had happened next. She was sleeping, for once she was sleeping so soundly underneath the clean white sheets, the warmness of them gave her some comfort and after he had given her a gentle kiss goodbye without waking her, he had done what had to be done, he ended the many future months of torture that would rack her body, craze her mind and bring her skin splitting pain. It would only get worse, the splitting of her skin, the internal bleeding... would only get worse.

Ever so slowly with shaking hands he had loaded his small pistol, clutching to the gun with both hands. It was an older pistol, but it would not be one of his own weapons he had created that would end her pain. After loading it, with tears streaming down his eyes, he watched her turn and sigh with pain, still sleeping, then, he pulled the trigger.

It was all too fast, but he had soon found himself in the same room, back against the wall, shaking, sobbing, he could barely hold the cigarette between his fingers and he sat there for hours on end, staring at the sight in front of him. It was a clean job, barely any blood showed above the body, yet underneath would be a different story. He had done what needed to be done, she had died instantaneously, no more pain, no more suffering.

He now flashed back to the current time, placing a red rose atop her snow covered grave, he kissed it gently, then turned and headed back to his car. The drive back was no better, it was pitch black, the snow turning to rainy sleet and his elbow leaned on the door supporting his head, the other hand on the steering wheel. He was deep in thought about another subject, the second woman in his life that lifted the coldness from his shoulders, the burden he carried about the murder he had committed, one he did not want to do. She hadn't known about it, he dared not tell her.... not now anyway. She would find out one day, either by him telling her or a leakage of information. His employees kept shut about the matter, everyone knew how sick she was and how the government had never issued any type of euthanasia of any human for medical purposes. So she was left to die a horrible death... until he put a stop to it.

Turning into Zorg Corp. thoughts raced in his mind. How he couldn't lose Brooke, not now, not ever. His life seemed to turn around with her and so did hers. He was cold and had a short temper, she was lonely and didn't trust, had a mean spirit and never asked questions twice, she just killed. He had to admit, she was good, very good.... but even she did have her mental break downs, depressions and off days, just like him, just like now.

He had headed up the building stairs, out into the vast marble area, where the front desks were. Past the front desks were flights of marble stairs lined with glass. He passed the large meeting dome, passed several other offices and went down a narrower hall. The building was built finely, floors of marble, walls of wood and steel, ceiling of glass. It had suited him, pleased him... for a while anyway. But business was starting to get boring, he wanted something new in his life, something that would thrill and exhilarate him... and that's when she came along.


	2. What Futures will Hold

**((And you all thought I abandoned this... really now! What gave you that idea?))**

**Disclaimer: Zorg Not mine... Brooke is mine... **

The desk that he sat at felt cold and unforgiving. The air conditioning didn't help the situation either and Zorg let his head rest against the chair that he sat in. Closing his eyes, he thought, long and hard about the last few years of his life. Was he doing the right thing, a business of weapons and illegal doings? Of course... that's what brought the money in, even if it _WAS _illegal. He sighed heavily, looking back down at his desk, seeing the pile of paperwork made him insane, even though most people thought he already was.

"What's wrong?" A small, voice full of authority was heard from across the room. The voice belonged to a female, not very tall and a strong Irish twinge to it that sounded like ringing bells to his ears. The female turned in her chair from the console in front of her, legs crossed, her skirt neatly lain across her knees and pressed.

"Nothin' darlin', just some paperwork." He usual southern accent always sounded odd next to her Irish one. The girl blinked at him and shook her head.

"Not paperwork." She replied back, still blinking in his direction as she awaited an answer. To the normal eye, she looked completely human, nothing out of the ordinary. Yet inside her body was a completely different story and Zorg knew it. He just hoped he didn't have to go through it, that and her temper when she found out about the secrets he kept from her, about her. Ever since she had been reunited with her brother on a low level, her uncle deceiving him and turning... supposedly dead, although not everyone agreed on that.

Zorg hated himself at times, keeping the lies about Brook from her, along with his past life he felt he could have shared with her, but didn't. Brooke deserved better than that, she always did. He turned his body towards hers, letting a slight smile come across his face. "Ah, just some deals went south darlin' ah told ya those Mangalores weren't easy t' deal with..." He studied her more as she listened, already now turned back to her own work. His eyes scanned her body, muscular and sleek, they had enjoyed many sword matches together in the training rooms, many in awe of both their abilities, especially since Zorg had a gimped out leg. "Wanna go to lunch? Mah treat..." He tried to catch her attention, knowing she was dwelling on the subject of his stress level.

"No." The young woman replied back. "Already ate when ye' were out..." She did this time turn her body towards his. "Where were ya anyways?" She asked, although prying, it was an innocent enough question. Zorg had been disappearing at times lately, sometimes not coming back for hours and in a much different mood than before. She only hoped that his interest in her hadn't faded. Any woman in the city would kill to be his right hand, with all the money and wealth involved.

"What's with all the questions? I go out... what I do is none of your concern." He talked to her as if she were one of his minions, yet he did cherish her on a higher level and hadn't realized how stern his voice was towards her question.

"I worry about ye... that's why! Forget it..." She turned back to the console, searching through some of the security files of the building. Feeling somewhat guilty about the issue, he tried to speak again, yet the blaring alarms in the office ruined it. They were frequent, ever since the search for Mr. Shadow's 'special stones' there had seemed to be more and more trouble...

"I..." He began his sentence, yet didn't get the chance to finish, she was already suiting up. "Don't do this..." Was all he managed. "Please Brooke, ah can't do this again..."

Brooke turned towards him, puzzled. "I... always do this... you do too... we suit up and kill intruders. What is your issue lately? I think you're taking the wrong happy pills..." She started to clip the leather on her arm, but Zorg stood up.

"Because..." He gripped her arm, yet not firmly. "I can't go through it again..."

"Go through what!" She tried to yell over the alarms, yet they grew louder and she picked a ZF-1 from a nearby weapons storage closet. "You're too nuts right now to fight. I'll send security up." She looked at him one last time and headed into the hall, down towards the security consoles.

**((Sorry this chapter is such a drag... I really had no ideas to get the story moving...))**


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